


Snug as a Bug

by Dorsail



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Arachnophobia, Banter, Entomophobia, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorsail/pseuds/Dorsail
Summary: Gordon Freeman harbors a general fondness for bugs in all their forms. Barney Calhoun does not.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun & Isaac Kleiner, Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 17
Kudos: 118





	1. Pre

Barney paid no mind to the terrarium in the corner of the dorm. How could he, when a flurry of touches and kisses corralled him onto the bed and stripped him of his clothes?

It was probably an iguana. Gordon seemed the type.

It was only afterwards, being spooned comfortably in bed as sweat cooled on his forehead that Barney could get a good look at the tank just across the room. The dorm was dark, but there was enough ambient lighting to discern the shapes of logs and twigs. Sure enough, one twig moved, and then another, and another, until finally the reality of what Barney was looking at registered in his brain. In the single pulse of a synapse his entire body locked up, his breath held, eyes wide, blood iced, stomach dropped to the center of the earth.

There, staring back at him, was a giant, hairy tarantula.

The gaze petrified Barney to stone; a gaze from far too many eyes. Fast asleep, Gordon remained blissfully unaware that he was curled around a frozen statue. Barney was too afraid to make a move or utter a sound, lest he stir the creature or his lover to agitation. Instead, he gripped the covers tight, trying to close his eyes but knowing deep down in his gut that if he let his guard down, he would surely awaken to this hairy creature crawling on his face.

So his eyes remained open, his brain drifting frighteningly close to sleep before being sharply reigned in by a deep-seated and primal fear. The hours blurred, the time immeasurable with natural light shut out by layers and layers of concrete and soil.

Hour after hour after hour after hour.

Harshly and mercifully, an alarm shrieked through the cold air, and Barney swallowed the heart that had jumped into his throat. Gordon groaned, his spooning arm recoiling back to rub at his eyes. He felt around for his bearings, his touch softening once he remembered he had company for the night. He leaned in close to plant a kiss on Barney’s ear.

“Good morning,” Gordon murmured.

“Mhmm,” Barney hummed, too tired to mask his frustration.

Still oblivious to the nightmare scenario, Gordon quickly rolled out of bed and switched on the lights. Barney watched as the tarantula scurried from the light, hiding beneath a log. A fresh wave of revulsion reverberated through his bones.

“I don’t know how you sleep at night with that _monster_ staring at you,” Barney huffed.

Gordon frowned, a deep line creasing between his brows. Still clad in his briefs, he motioned over to the terrarium. “You mean Henrietta?”

“I don’t care _what_ you call it,” Barney cried out. “It gives me the creeps!”

The look he gave Barney was odd. Full of disappointment more than anything. He heaved a deep sigh. “You know, it’s usually women that have a problem with the company I keep."

“Oh, nice insinuation there, pal,” Barney sneered. “Anyone in their right mind would burn that thing with a flamethrower!”

All at once, that haughtiness fell away from Gordon’s face, replaced with deftly controlled rage. “Get out.”

Barney, still buck-naked in bed, faltered under the intense gaze. “Are you kidding me?”

Yet Gordon’s glare did not let up, his finger rigidly pointed to the door. “Get out of my dorm. Now.”

Barney made a huff, but found himself too intimidated to object any further. He threw off the covers and quickly shuffled back into his clothes, keenly aware of Gordon’s intense glare whilst he did so. He didn’t dare reciprocate eye contact again, simply barging out the door without another word.

Fifteen minutes later, Barney dejectedly pursued the fatty and carb-loaded breakfast offerings in the cafeteria. He settled on the last pair of donuts and a cup of black coffee. With caffeine finally flowing through his veins, he could finally shrug off some of his sleep-deprived stupor and get the gears in his head turning. Was his phobia more important than getting laid, after all? It _was_ good sex, definitely the best he was going to get in crazy-ass place, but of course the guy had to own a fucking pet spider of all things. 

Barney pretended to ignore Gordon’s entrance, his methodical procurement of a bowl of oatmeal, and his retreat to a table in the corner of the cafeteria. An inconspicuous glance told Barney more than his peripheral vision could: a tense back and a terse frown. He felt his conscience leaning on his shoulder, and attempted to shrug it off. He was ultimately unsuccessful. Barney stood from his table, taking his breakfast with him, and crossed no man’s land.

Gordon, an already sparse conversationalist, was a master at the silent treatment and kept his head down as the guard approached. Like a white flag of surrender, Barney waved the apology donut at the edge of the scientist’s vision.

“I managed to get the last two,” Barney said, placing the fried bread on his friend’s napkin. “Here’s your half.”

Gordon eyed it, silent.

“Can I sit here?”

The implacable man shrugged, picking up the donut and taking a bite out of it. Relieved but still leery, Barney slipped into the empty chair across from Gordon. Instead of chowing down on his own donut, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, I’m sorry for being an ass earlier,” Barney spoke, avoiding eye contact. “It’s your dorm, and what you keep in there is your business. I was a guest, but I ended up being disrespectful.”

Gordon looked up from his food, the glare on his glasses causing his expression to be unreadable.

Barney looked away, shyly palming his neck. Still, somehow, he found the courage to continue. “Look, I had a really good time last night, barring my phobia. So… would you give me a second chance?”

A small smile creeped onto Gordon’s face. “Yeah. I had fun, too.”

Barney let out a relieved sigh, slumping in his chair.

“I know a lot of people don’t like bugs, I get it,” Gordon said, “but I don’t like it when people express a desire to ‘kill them with fire.’ Especially if those bugs are my pets.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Really, I’m sorry.”

Gordon seemed to deflate a bit too, the ice in his joints melting. “I should apologize too. I didn’t need to insult you.”

Barney waved it off. “It’s alright. My classmates in school didn’t give me _that_ bad of a time when spiders sent me screaming. I was the class clown, after all. It was part of my act.”

Gordon shook his head, reminiscing himself. “You know, the only time I got detention in school was after I wailed on a kid for smashing snails during recess.”

Barney’s brows shot up in surprise. “Is that so? Well, thanks for not giving me a black eye, Doc.”

“You really believe I’m a violent person?” Gordon asked, tone serious.

“Well, I mean, you coulda fooled me!” Barney laughed, playing off his friend’s concern. “I never want to see you mad again. You look scary as hell.”

At this reply, Gordon only frowned, his gaze drooping to his half eaten donut.

“Hey, now,” Barney said, reaching out to clap his friend on the shoulder. “It’s all in the looks, right? I know you’re harmless. You’re like what they say about bugs. That they’re more afraid of you than you are them... or they only attack when they are cornered or whatever.” 

Gordon lifted his eyes, some warmth returning to his green irises.

“Or if you smash snails for fun,” Barney added.

That finally broke a smile on Gordon’s face, and he playfully pushed his friend’s reassuring hand away, but still held on, thumb stroking the top of his knuckles in a tender caress.

Barney blushed, picking apart his donut. “Maybe we should stick to my dorm instead?” he offered.

“What if I put a sheet over the terrarium?”

“Deal.”


	2. Intermission

Sleep came easy for Barney after the war. The exhaustion, physical and mental, permeated deep enough to reach bone. Just a few minutes after settling himself, he could drift off to sleep anywhere, be it a moldy mattress or a cobblestone alleyway. It was quite a change from his younger days, all anxious insomnia with the vestigial caffeine from a 6 PM coffee still drifting through his veins. Yes, after all this time, sleep was easy to find. What was hard were the nightmares. Coworkers dead, their cold bodies strewn across the once pristine floors of Black Mesa. The bright blue sky cluttered with uncountable alien warships, hanging immoble like shrapnel frozen in time.

And now, a headcrab viciously clamping on his face. It took him a split second to realize this was no nightmare, but reality.

With a yell he ripped the creature from his face and flung it across the dark room. The headcrab chittered as it flailed around on its back, trying to recover. Not wasting time, Barney bolted out of the supply room and heaved the shutter door shut with a clang. He leaned a hand against the metal paneling, his breath coming out in shallow pants.

“Hmm, what?” a sleepy voice spoke up from the dark. “What’s happening?”

Remembering his company (and his guard duty), Barney flipped on the nearest lightswitch. With light illuminating the secret lab, he caught sight of the elderly scientist rising from his cot, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Kleiner, be careful! There’s a headcrab in that room!”

“Oh, dear God!” Kleiner gasped. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

Barney’s eyes just about bulged out of his skull. “ _Her_?!”

“That’s my dear pet, Barney!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The distress on Kleiner’s face was immeasurable. “Well, did you hurt her or not?!”

“You should be more concerned about me!” Barney yelled. “I woke up with that _thing_ on my _face_!”

“Please tell me you didn’t hurt my little Hedy!”

Barney let out a frustrated sigh. “C’mon Doc! You hear it scurrying around in there, don’t you? The thing’s fine! I just flung it to the ground and shut the door!”

The scientist gave him an indignant look. “You could have just _said_ that instead of giving me a heart attack!”

“Again, _I’m_ the one who woke up with a headcrab on his face.”

“She was just following her instincts! I’ve debeaked her, she’s completely harmless.” All at once, the old man seemed to realize the gravity of his friend’s ordeal. Barney’s heart was still pounding, the sweat pouring from his brow, breath quick. Cues easy to parse for anyone, but Kleiner was slow on the uptake. He patted Barney on the shoulder in reassurance. “Oh… I do apologize though. I forgot to mention her at all. It’s been a few months since I hatched her, you see.”

And it had been a few months since Barney’s last visit.

He shook his head, refusing all attempts at comfort. “You know, when I took that job at the train station, all so I could keep a watchful eye on you and your latest project, I didn’t think headcrabs would be part of the deal!”

“I intended to keep her in her cage while you visited, but she seems to have escaped! That’s the second time, too! I need to find a proper pet carrier.”

“Or how about a different pet all together?” Barney insisted. “Have you ever thought of a cat?”

Kleiner let out a huff. “I’ve already had many cats throughout my life. Sometimes I think I’m the only one serious about studying Earth’s newfound and misunderstood alien inhabitants.”

“What’s so misunderstood about headcrabs? Disgusting, vile—”

“You’re just proving my point, Barney!”

“I can see you’re not going to default on this,” he sighed. “Am I the only one talking sense? What did Eli say about this new pet?”

The old scientist crossed his arms and stuck his chin up. “I’ll have you know Eli thought that it was a novel experiment to debeak a headcrab! Plus, I have other colleagues waiting for further developments on headcrab behavior.”

Barney threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. _Fine_! Let’s just get this thing back in its cage, so I can go back to sleep.”

“You know, I still have some leftover watermelon. It should make the perfect bait!”

In a few minutes their trap was set: a fence of cardboard boxes pressed up against the shutter door with a baited cage waiting in the middle. Carefully, Barney lifted up the door a few feet, jamming it in place by sliding the wire cage forward. He stood by the wayside, perfectly still, his frozen stance only a bit brought on by fear. Just a few steps away, also out of view, Kleiner watched intently as he wrung his hands.

“You sure this will work?” Barney whispered. “I thought they only eat meat.”

“And you would be wrong.” Kleiner pointed towards the cage. “Look!”

Sure enough, a headcrab crept into the cage, warily poking at the fruit with one of her front legs. All at once, the alien tackled the wedge of watermelon, undulating in the same fashion as on a cranium. Moved by a mixture of urgency, revulsion, and panic, Barney slid the cage out from under the door and slammed it shut. The headcrab, realizing she was once again trapped, reared up to hiss at her captor.

“Ugh, here you go, Doc,” Barney grumbled, passing the cage off to Kleiner. “You’re welcome.”

Kleiner fiddled with the lock. “Ah, you see? It’s just a simple bolt latch. She could have easily manipulated it with a claw... I’ll have to document it! They just might be as intelligent as corvids!” The scientist made his way to his work table, setting down the cage with a delicate touch. He then stooped low, shushing his pet. “It’s alright, Hedy, you’re safe.”

Barney shook his head, the familiar sight tugging at his chest. “Hate to admit it, but this really brings me back. You know Gordon had a pet tarantula back in Black Mesa.”

“Oh yes, you’re right!” Kleiner grinned as he reminisced. “Quite a beautiful specimen, too. I cherish the moment he let me handle her.”

Barney shuddered. “Ugh, I don’t even want to imagine.”

“Freeman had quite the respectable taste in pets.” Kleiner paused, his gaze wistful. “I do miss that fellow.”

A silence overtook them both. Barney paced to the corkboard, scanning the papers declaring Earth’s defeat, of portal storms ravaging the surface. “Wherever he is, he’s not missing out on much.”

A small, knowing smile graced Kleiner’s melancholy face. “And where do you figure he is?”

Barney let out a singular chuckle. Usually people balked at the idea of Gordon Freeman being anything but dead. Maybe Kleiner was humoring him… or maybe he also believed that Freeman was something else entirely.

He caught sight of the old photo of the Anomalous Materials team, with a scratched out Administrator and the unreadable gaze of a spectacled man. “He’s not dead, that’s for sure. Probably on Xen, cut off from all communication and hanging out with the unlucky vorts that didn’t high-tail it out when their leader was destroyed.”

“If only their telepathy could pierce that nigh impenetrable barrier.”

Barney laughed, coming back to Earth. “That would certainly help with the teleporter project, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed it would,” Kleiner said, nodding. “Still, we’re only using Xen as a relay to send things to and fro on earth’s surface.”

Barney stuck a thumb to his chest. “Well, if you pencil pushers ever need someone to go back to that godforsaken shithole, I’ll be first in line.”

“I know you’re the only man we’ve got that’s ever returned from Xen, but I hope it never comes to that.” Kleiner patted his old coworker on the back. “After all, you’re already doing so much for the Resistance. You’ve got enough to be preoccupied with.”

Barney shot him a wry smile. “Just you wait, Doc. One of these days I’ll ring you up to say I’ve found Gordon Goddamn Freeman.”

Kleiner returned the smile in kind. “That would certainly be a red letter day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus. In hindsight I should have posted Chapter 1 _after_ the holidays instead of before!


	3. Post

Barney fought back a yawn as he willed himself to remain awake. His skill at dozing off worked wonders when every bit of sleep mattered, staking out a station or sleeping through suppressive fire, but when company was over, it was more-so a curse. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d have use for it any longer, what with the Combine beaten back from Earth. Gordon made sure of that.

The man himself was sitting on the bed besides Barney, shuffling on his briefs. His freckled back was pale in the moonlight, looking not unlike the celestial body itself.

Barney reached out to stroke one of the craters. “I know we only went one round, but I’m dead tired.”

Gordon craned his neck so he could peer down at him, his gaze analytical as always. 

The look fizzled away the apology on Barney’s tongue, and he withdrew his hand. “Hey, it’s your decision to get with an older guy! You’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“I don’t mind,” Gordon said plainly and simply. 

Barney huffed. Of course... still the same painfully honest man.

A green glow lit the terrarium below the window sill, an insectoid creature stirring in the darkness. Gordon stood up and rummaged through the cupboard. “Hmm, you’re probably hungry, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to skip dinner.” He procured a coffee tin and shook out some desiccated flakes for the snark, who munched on them in a fervor.

Gordon froze as soon as he met Barney’s gaze. “Oh, that’s right… your phobia. Should I get something to drape over the tank?”

Barney waved his hand. “No, I’m good. I outgrew it I think. Sharing the same space with Lamarr worked pretty well as exposure therapy, as much as I hate to admit it. I still don’t care much for bugs… but I don’t mind as long as they keep their distance.”

An amused smile graced Gordon's face. “You’ve changed, Barney.”

“And you haven’t changed much at all.” His lips pinched together, but the ugly truth had already tumbled out.

The smile fell. Gordon stared at him in silence, that same intense gaze from decades ago. “That’s... not a problem, is it?”

To think how inscrutable that face had once been, when Barney was just a college drop-out at a dead end job. Now, he wasn’t sure what he was, after watching the world end with a bang, after watching the remains whimper. Yes, Barney had changed. But the years attuned him to pain, and now he could see the apprehension behind Gordon’s eyes, the constant appraisal and analysis of every minute detail. The thoughts screaming in his head. 

“No,” Barney promised. “Of course it’s not a problem, Gordon. You?”

Gordon’s chest visibly squeezed, his long held breath exhaled. “As long as you’re fine with it, so am I.”

“You know I’m more than fine with it!” Barney patted the bed sheets beside him. “C’mere, smart guy.”

Gordon shuffled back into bed, slotting into place with his back to Barney’s chest. Interlocked, like reunited machine parts, still fitting together after all this time, despite it all.

Barney let out a chuckle. He really was an old man, caught up in reminiscing. “You know, I’ve actually woken up with a headcrab on my face before,” he recalled, stroking down Gordon’s arm. “Wild one too, not just Lamarr. I know now that your little tarantula would’ve never done that— what was its name again?”

“Henrietta,” Gordon replied. “After Henrietta Swan Leavitt. Astronomer.”

“Did Kleiner copy you on the geeky name tradition or was that something you inherited from him?”

With his elbow, Gordon lightly jabbed Barney in the gut.

“Oof! OK, I get it. Good to know you’re still boney as hell.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“‘S alright,” Barney said, palming Gordon’s thigh. “You’re soft where it counts.”

Gordon slid his hand down, gripping Barney’s own. He pulled his lover’s arm so it was across his side, encompassing him, their fingers finally intertwining close to his chest. Barney brushed his lips against Gordon’s ear, his breath lightly rustling the auburn hair.

“I’m glad you’re back in spacetime, Doc,” Barney sighed.

They were entwined so firmly, so closely. Somehow closer than any touch either had ever felt.

And still, Gordon held the hand in his own ever tighter. “Yeah. Me too.”


End file.
